


Emma Swan and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Compulsory Heterosexuality

by wordsasweapons



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Coming Out, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-09-02 17:41:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8676763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordsasweapons/pseuds/wordsasweapons
Summary: It's a rhythm she's always fallen into, never going after what she thinks she may want in favor of security in the 'norm' and what's expected.Emma Swan has a lot of feelings, has always had a hard time figuring them out and denys many, until she doesn't.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this was a request that i took on immediately because it's important and it's accurate and just let emma swan be who she is already thank you very much. this will be swanqueen, though it wasn't explicitly asked for, but i can't help myself.

**✧**

 

Emma's sitting in her usual booth in the back corner of the diner, nursing a cooling cup of hot chocolate. It's one of those rare moments when she has a moment to herself. The kid is with his other mother, her parents aren't hovering over her shoulders at every waking moment, (she loves them, she does! But sometimes, guys...) and her boyfriend... Her face only scrunches up slightly at the word, bites the inside of her cheek when it doesn't even feel right in her head let alone rolling off her tongue. Anyway, he isn't here. And that's good. It should be bad that that's good, right? Hushed voices nearby pull her from her inner monologue.

 

"Do you think we're doing the right thing?"

 

It's Ruby's voice, around the corner through the walkway that leads to the backend of the diner. Another voice, a sigh, but a kind one. An adoring one, follows. "You mean the wedding? We can call it off if you want." Dorothy. Ruby's True Love. That had been some news. She didn't even know Ruby was interested in women that way, had thought she's the shittiest friend in the world, and then thought about if Ruby thinks women are nicer to be with than men... out of friendly curiosity?

 

"Oh, no, God no, that's not what I want, I just," a pause, "wonder if we're doing what every other Fairytale person does. Wedding's, cliche happily ever afters, all that."

 

A gentle laugh, shuffling of feet and then the unmistakable sound of lips meeting flesh. "Does this feel right to you?"

 

There isn't a pause, not a single beat. "Of course I do."

 

No other words are muttered in a shared moment between the two women, and Emma suddenly feels weird listening in on them. Ruby, her friend, is getting married. She never thought she'd see the day. Ruby, her friend, is marrying a woman. She didn't think that was... A Thing, that anyone in this town did. Or knew about. There aren't any gay fairy tales in her world, at least that she knows of.

 

When Ruby had told her about the wedding, she didn't say anything right away. Just stared blank faced.

 

_"Jesus, Em, if I had known this would be your reaction I wouldn't have—"_

 

_"No, Rubes," a flash of guilt shot up her spine, reaching for her friend's hand and squeezing, "I'm so happy for you."_

_That signature wide and toothy smile breaks out, Ruby giving her hand a gentle squeeze in return before snorting, laughing. "Sorry about that, I had been prepared, you know, just figured that telling you would be easy."_

 

Ruby had looked her up and down, Emma had simply glanced down at her appearance and wondered if she had something on her shirt. Ruby hadn't elaborated on that, and Emma had found herself agreeing to being a bridesmaid even though she greatly despised the idea of slipping into some color coordinated, tight dress.

 

_"I would've asked you to be my maid of honor, but, your mother insisted she take the reigns on that," A fond roll of her eyes caused her to laugh lightly._

 

_"No worries there, I know nothing about weddings. But I'll go for an open bar."_

 

She hadn't really thought about her mother's role in planning Ruby's wedding until now. She's aware Ruby's marrying a woman. Does that mean Snow knows she's planning a gay wedding? What's a gay wedding? A wedding is a wedding, right? Of course it is. She closes her eyes around a groan for a second before she just stares down at the cooling hot chocolate sitting forgotten in her hands.

 

Ruby rounds the corner, coming to a halt at the booth Emma's occupying. "Whoa, brooding Sheriff's, look out."

 

She ignores Ruby's prodding about why she looks intent on glaring a hole through the table, feigns exhaustion and gives Ruby a quick hug, an awkward raise of her hand that's supposed to be a wave for Dorothy and then she's out the door, inhaling the cool air of fall that's slipping into winter. Her phone buzzes twice in her pocket and she frowns at a text from Hook asking if she'd like to meet him for a drink, exits out of it, opens the other.

 

_Henry's just gone up to bed, I'm passing on a goodnight from him. Are you home?_

 

Regina. Her frown twists up into what can only be described as a dopey grin, and her fingers start tapping out a reply almost immediately.

 

**It's pretty late, isn't it? Why's he still up? And no, headed there now.**

 

A reply comes as quickly as her own.

 

_He insisted on watching the new Star Wars again. Please text me when you arrive home._

 

She snorts at the first bit because she knows damn well that Regina put up absolutely no fight against Henry's movie choice. Her laughter fades into a small smile at the second bit, fingers hovering over the words. She watches the cloud of her breath in the night air on each exhale. Her hands are freezing, but her chest feels warm.

 

**Uh huh. You're both nerds. I'll text you the moment my foot hits the threshold.**

 

She shoves her phone into her back pocket, her hands in her jacket pockets and walks briskly. Because she knows it'll only worry Regina further if it takes her too long, and that warm feeling in her chest seems to only build. Because Regina worries about her, Regina wants her to be safe even when there's no crazy storybook villain hanging over their heads and the only danger Emma's in is tripping over her own feet, hitting her head and freezing to death.

 

Henry had said something about her being whipped when it came to Mom, and that's ridiculous because only people who are dating are whipped. Right? She doesn't know. And Regina's her friend. Her very best friend, at that. Her mind tries to ask her if that weird feeling she gets and that face she pulls when she thinks of Hook and Boyfriend means anything when she thinks of Regina and Friend.

 

Of course it doesn't. It doesn't mean a thing. She's just having a weird night. In a line of many weird nights. In a weird life.

 

She walks through her front door, trudges up the stairs and slips out of her jacket, reaching for her phone. She smiles at the texts she had left open, wider when she reads the last one.

 

_I am not a nerd._

 

She gets out of her clothes, slips into pajamas and climbs into bed.

 

_You so are. I'm home and in bed now. Who's your favorite Star Wars character?_

 

 _I'm sure Henry will spill._ Emma can practically hear the brunettes long suffering sigh like she's right there in the room and not simply texting her. _Goodnight, Emma._

 

**Is it Darth Vader? Not so black and white villain, redeemed in the end. Oh! Choke hold.**

 

_Good. Night. Emma._

 

She huffs out a laugh, tucks her phone under her pillow and doesn't fall asleep right away. She stares up at the ceiling and thinks about women. But not like that, just you know, women falling in love with other women. Women who aren't her falling in love with another woman. Because she's not like that. She sighs, frustrated, turns over and buries her face in the pillows. She forgets entirely to reply to Hook's texts. 

 

**✧**

 

Snow comes by in the morning for breakfast and wedding talk and Emma already has a headache and hangs her head over her bowl of fruit loops.

 

"Have you picked out your dress yet? I have a few ideas for you and Killian to match." She squirms slightly in her seat, feels like her head might cave in on itself. Snow keeps going, something about flower arrangements and seating charts and really why does she think Emma cares at all, aside from the fact that it's Ruby's wedding and that's awesome. The best. Ruby's wedding with her female True Love.

 

"Did same sex relationships happen often in your world?" She blurts it out before she can take another too large bite of her cereal and curses her own mouth. More cereal in your mouth, Swan, less opening your mouth and saying things like _that_. Snow's rant about napkin placements comes to a screeching halt, mouth hanging open with an awkward "uhh" before snapping closed for a moment before she shrugs her shoulders. She looks casual. How is she so casual?

 

"Well, it wasn't common, but not unheard of." She feels like her cheeks might actually be on fire, and her mother is looking at her like she can _tell_ andis ready to bolt to get the fire extinguisher.

 

Emma's eyes dart all over the place, refuses to meet her mother's eyes, but Snow continues softly. "Do you think it's weird, two women? Because sweetheart, —"

 

"God, mom, no!" She's got her hands up, laughing nervously and now she's convinced her mother is looking at her like she's on something, and just. She totally should not have gotten out of bed today. "That's so great, awesome," she wonders how many times she's said that and if it sounds as odd to anyone else and frowns, lets out a long sigh before dropping her hands. "I was just... curious."

 

"Right," and it sounds like Snow has several other questions, but says nothing. Emma's phone buzzes from the kitchen counter, and she's there in a few quick steps. Feels a little more at ease when she sees it's her son.

 

_Buy me the Assassin's Creed bundle and I'll tell you all the nerdy things you want to know about Mom._

 

Emma chuckles lowly, accompanied by an eye roll and taps out a reply quickly, shooing Snow away when she starts holding up color swatches, for dress ideas, like she's some damn wall she's planning on painting.

 

**Nice try, but you would never betray her like that, Kid.**

 

_You're right. We did discuss Darth Vader meta over breakfast, though. Also she says hi._

 

Emma swears her face may split if she grinned any harder thinking about any of _that_.

 

She finally shuffles Snow out of her house, after deflecting questions about Hook's whereabouts. She stares down at the notepad her mother left behind with dress ideas and the name of some place David was going to go try suits on at, pass the info on to Killian and yada, yada. If her mother thinks it's odd that Emma has no clue where her now live in boyfriend is, well, she doesn't show any signs.

 

Emma ponders her own feelings about the live in part. It had been... a bit of a blur. She isn't entirely sure if it had been something she thought about before bringing it up. It just kind of happened. The only time she had ever thought about living with another person was Neal, and even then it was part of some crazy plan to run away from the law together. But Hook kept insisting that they have been together for some time now, isn't it time for another step? She had immediately seized up at the suggestive brow cocked and laughed a stupid nervous laugh, panicked and said they should move in. Because that's what couples who like each other do, right? Some sort of feeling that feels close to dread pools in her gut whenever something more... physical is implied, from him, or god forbid, any of her friends. She recalls a girls night a while back, before the Moving In Fiasco, with Ruby, Dorothy, Belle and of all people, her mother.

 

They were several shots and martinis in when conversation shifted to less than PG topics and she thought her life was surely over when her mother implied she and her father have less than vanilla sex a fair amount. She didn't think it could get worse, then Ruby waggled her brows at her and asked how far she and Hook had gotten and Emma laughed that stupid, stupid nervous laugh again. Distractedly nodded along to something about yeah he's got a nice face and sure his chest hair is soft, right about the same time she had been peering down the shirt of their female waiter.

 

Not peering. She had just happened to be right in Emma's line of sight, bending slightly as she was placing more drinks on their table. That hadn't meant anything. Women are allowed to look at other women and appreciate things about them. It didn't mean you were _interested_ in them. But if you were that's totally okay! Because that's cool. She tries not to think about the hot prickly feeling at the back of her neck when The Pretty Brunette With The Plunging Shirt had smiled at her. Women just have nice smiles, too, that's all.

 

Anyway. Now she has a boyfriend she lives with but never really sees, because she ignores his texts about meeting him for drinks, spends as long as she can at the Mills home when she's invited, picks up babysitting duties for her baby brother on her parents weekly date night and stays late at the station when she's working so she can avoid going up to her waiting boyfriend in her... their? bed, ending up sleeping on the couch and slipping out of the house before he can ask questions.

 

Maybe she's just bad at relationships. She hasn't had many. She's had more important things on her plate. There isn't any deeper meaning. And she definitely, certainly _does not_  feel that same hot prickle down the back of her neck when Regina smiles at her later that day.

 

Regina's just one of those women with nice smiles.

 

**✧**

 

So maybe Emma's had dwindling thoughts about women. In the past. Women crushes, as she's overheard her teenage sons female friends say, and teen cliques in movies. Except she's pretty sure none of those girls really think about kissing their women crushes, because they're straight. And so is she. Of course. It doesn't automatically make you gay if you had fleeting thoughts when you were twenty-three about a woman from that corner coffee shop who smiled a lot and gave you free slices of pie at the end of her closing shift.

 

Does it make you bisexual? No. She isn't that either. Foster father number seven would've been pleased to hear her say that, he was pretty homophobic. Very homophobic. Twelve year old her had talked for a good half hour about some random boy she's pretty sure she made up and wanted to kiss, instead of the girl who held her hand by the swings. It was her sixth family since being given back, she was desperate to impress anyone who might take her in.

 

Natalie, Girl By The Swings, had really soft hands. Women have softer hands than men, which is nice. Woman at the coffee shop looked like she used a lot of hand lotion, and Pretty Brunette With The Plunging Shirt looked like she had soft skin. Regina definitely has soft hands and skin.

 

She wonders briefly if Ruby, who is bisexual, thinks women feel nicer than men. Does she think women are better kissers than men? She must, right? She's marrying a woman. No. That doesn't sound right.

 

"Hey, either you're trying to figure out the answer to the universe or that focused scowl is telling me you don't approve of this dress."

 

Ruby's voice pulls her from her inner musings, holding up two different dresses she's pretty sure look the same shapewise, just different colors. She's supposed to be choosing her bridesmaid dress. She sits up from her slouched position and rubs the back of her neck.

 

"Everyone knows the answer is 42, Rubes. And the red, I guess."

 

Ruby doesn't really fight her, just stares at her before giving the dress a once over and depositing it in the Yes pile. Emma's head hurts from the short, shrill voiced woman who had been handing Ruby different options and she's pretty sure she never wants to see another dress in her life. She's grumpy and she's thinking too much, maybe she can blame that for her weird new habit of just blurting crazy questions out.

 

"Is it nice kissing Dorothy?"

 

Ruby actually cackles like Emma's just told her the best joke in history and gives her a weird sideways glance. "No, I'm purely in it for the hilarious face she makes when I make her watch The Wizard of Oz with me."

 

Emma frowns, blinks once, twice before Ruby laughs again. "Yes, Emma. It's very nice. What is _with_ you?"

 

"Nothing," she shakes her head. So kissing women is nice. That's nice. It's nice kissing men, too, she thinks. Because that's all she knows.

 

Ruby starts handing the short woman the dresses she had picked out, and Emma jumps when her phone vibrates in her hands. A text from Regina.

 

 _What do you think?_ it reads, and attached is a picture of Regina no doubt taken by Henry, standing in her bedroom and posing with a small smile on her face, in a deep red dress that hugs every curve, contrasts nicely against her skin and dark hair, just the right amount of cut in the chest area. Emma flushes, tears her eyes away from the little upwards quirk of plump lips, and that scar on the upper one.

 

**A definite yes. You look beautiful.**

 

So maybe she could stand to see one more dress. If Regina Mills is the one wearing it.

 

**✧**

 

The wedding day sneaks up on them all, and Emma's convinced it's only been like, a week since the announcement, and certainly the dress shopping was yesterday but no. It's definitely been three months since the announcement, a week since dress shopping. When did she get so bad at keeping track of time.

 

Emma had attempted to wrangle her son and his other mothers plans for the morning out of him, but he wouldn't budge. She thought they could go together, as a family. Instead she shows up on Hook's arm. Her in the red dress Ruby picked out, grateful it wasn't some ridiculous color coordinated thing after all. However, Hook's in a dark blue suit and it absolutely clashes. Emma knows jack shit about fashion, but she is convinced. She catches a glimpse of Regina and Henry walking up the pathway to the venue, a really nice seaside place Snow found just on the edge of the main part of town, and she's certain her red goes nicely with Regina's. They'd look great next to each, with each other. Not with, _with_ each other, obviously.

 

She looks away, frowns. Hook's fucking suit clashes with her. With the dress. It's just the suit. He pulls her off in the opposite direction of where she wants to be, away from Regina and Henry and says something about saving her a dance later. She forces a tight lipped smile. Why on earth is this all so hard. She's supposed to be at ease, supposed to be happy. That's what this man is supposed to be to her, right? Her happiness. That happy ending these fairytale people seem hell bent on having. Foster mother number eight would've sighed, given a shake of the head and said something about her being ungrateful, how every woman deserves a man who will do whatever it takes to be with you, just accept it. Which, for Emma Swan now, sounds a whole lot like the man beside her being proud of himself for breaking down all of her walls, and the expectation of her to feel secure in his ideals and expectations and she was supposed to just be grateful and give in. Because that's what young Emma Swan had been taught when she was alone in a world, desperate and searching for home and love and acceptance.

 

She tilts her head up to glance at the man beside her, attention on her father as they talk about some sailing trip coming up. It doesn't feel right. Maybe it isn't just that suit anymore. But there's no time to dwell on that, because she's being dragged off with the rest of the bridesmaids and before she knows it, she's standing at an altar with flowers in her hands and watching, awestruck as Ruby and Dorothy exchange vows. She watches tears well up in her mother's eyes as she stands beside her, catches Snow glance out to the crowd and finding David, who smiles warmly back at her. Love should be that, right? What her parents have. What Ruby and Dorothy have, right? She isn't sure she's ever felt that way. Her own eyes wander to Hook, who smiles at her crookedly. No, she's never felt that kind of love in her life.

 

She snaps her attention from him, feels a knot in her stomach as she tries to focus back on Ruby and Dorothy smiling at each other like the world just makes sense together, and when they meet in a kiss, Emma's breath catches in her throat and, yeah. Maybe she's always wanted to kiss women like that.

 

She doesn't feel much better a half hour later when everyone is coupled up and out on the dance floor. Emma's eyes trace over faces she can't put names to, couples she only sort of knows. She finds her parents, David holding Snow the way she thinks every little girl perhaps dreamt about being held by her prince. She pretended, but she never dreamt of a prince. She finds Ruby and Dorothy in their own little world, laughing at nothing and perhaps everything. Her eyes find Regina without really trying, they almost always do that, and Regina's being twirled by their son, head tossed back in a carefree laugh she hasn't seen nearly enough on the other woman, and if her life were some ridiculous, tooth rotting romcom this would be the moment when everything slips into place, the plot that is her life suddenly making sense, and it all slows down.

 

Hook tilts his head, whispers something about it getting later in the festivities, perhaps she'd like to head home with him. And she knows what he's implying, stomach churning on auto pilot as she stiffens in his hold. Her body is stuck in one place, heart across the room and eyes on Regina as she turns in their son's arms, gentle hands gripping his nearly grown man shoulders as she smiles at something he tells her, head resting against the side of his, and then brown eyes find green ones. She wonders if Regina can see right through her, because her lips purse and her brows furrow like if she concentrates hard enough she could communicate telepathically.

 

And then the spell is broken, Hook's movements jerking her back from her daze and Henry's swaying Regina in a circle, his own eyes finding her now. His furrowed brows scream Regina, the depth in his eyes that same sea of affection, love and concern. And Emma's life isn't a ridiculous, tooth rotting romcom because this sucks and it hurts and she yanks herself from Hook's arms.

 

"Love? What is it?"

 

"I can't do this," she blurts out, voice trembling, which she doesn't want. She can't meet his eyes, looks anywhere and at nothing. He splutters around his words for a moment, before stepping forward.

 

"What do you mean?" She's sure if she did look at him, his jaw would be set, twitching and his eyes hard on her. She takes another step away.

 

"This, this thing, us. I can't do it anymore, I'm sorry." And she does what she does best. She runs. Hook's shouts dying on her ears and familiar concerned gazes blurring past her.

 

**✧**

 

She doesn't make it very far, though. Because running in heels sucks and when her heel clad feet meet sand she just stops, kicks the offending footwear off and crosses her arms over her stomach, staring out at the grey water and seafoam, cold air whipping blonde curls around her face and okay maybe it isn't a good idea to bolt into the pre-winter air and hangout by the water. She'll blame her mother if she gets sick for picking this spot.

 

She can't help but think about previous relationships. With men, of course. She had been convinced Neal was going to be it when he came along. She loved him, absolutely did. She was so tired of being alone and he liked her funny glasses, smiled at her like he meant it and was there. It was just them in love against the world. Was it love? Was she in love? She's had years to think about it, and maybe in some ways she had been. With a friend, friend in love. Until that one night they went somewhere friends don't really go and it had been. Well. Nobody enjoys their first time. There would be other chances for good sex with guys, right?

 

She lets out a scoff of laughter at that, because no. Definitely not that. Her eyes lingered too long on Pretty Brunettes and women with Nice Smiles and Soft Hands for there to ever be a thought about that man every other girl dreamed about. Suddenly she wants to cry for a younger Emma Swan who was taught all the wrong things and ways to love because she was lonely, and wants to cry for an Emma Swan now who is only now letting herself let go of it all and just _be_ everything she denied herself.

 

Any man that came after that just seems, trivial. Didn't last long enough to mean anything anyway. And then Hook happened. A disaster, really. All of it.

 

Heavy footsteps approaching her cause her to jump, fingers swiping tears that did end up spilling over. She closes her eyes and braces for who she thinks it'll be, but a familiar and safe voice clears the air.

 

"Here you are, I was wondering where you ran off to," David says softly, stopping at her side and tucking his hands into his pants pockets. She takes a moment to breathe in slowly, watches her breath drift off into the chilly air on each exhale, and her father allows the moment.

 

"I just broke up with Hook."

 

David _hmm's_ quietly before snorting out a small laugh, "That was kind of hard to miss, I'm afraid. Granny nearly punched him when he started yelling at the back of your head. Something about not ruining her girl's big day," his voice is so fond, but mixed with an air of frustration and questions.

 

Emma grimaces slightly, chewing on the inside of her cheek. "It just wasn't working, I didn't... I didn't feel what I thought I should."

 

David sways slightly on his feet before closing the remaining space between them and tilting his head to try and find her gaze. "How do you want to feel?"

 

She smiles weakly and offers a shrug in response at first before she finally turns her head, chin quivering. "Like you and mom, like... Ruby and Dorothy." And her heart is beating, pounding against her chest and she feels so small, feels twelve years old again when Cute Girl By The Swings had grinned at her and took her hand.

 

David lifts an arm and wraps it around her shoulders, pulling her into his side and she immediately relaxes when her head meets his shoulder, breathes in his cologne and warmth. A warm press of lips touches her temple. "You deserve the world and more, sweetheart," Emma just listens to his gentle heartbeats in contrast to her own, and finally he adds quietly, "And I think that feeling is a lot closer than you think."

 

She lifts her head from it's resting spot and stares at him in wonder, a million and one questions flying across her features and David must see it because he just smiles like he _knows_."Your mother and I love you no matter what, and we just want you to be happy. And I think," his head turns towards the banquet hall just over the rise of sand dunes and he tilts his chin up, "what makes you happy is in that building and you should go dance with her."

 

Any other moment she would think this is ridiculous. Getting the _we love you no matter what_  speech from a parent, when you're in your thirties and have already lived most of what that speech implies. Except her life is pretty ridiculous and her father looks her age and I guess the acceptance speech at thirty something makes sense. She thinks about foster father number seven and foster mother number eight and she doesn't feel as hollow when she does, because yeah the father she had wondered about and wanted so badly looks her age and her life is pretty ridiculous but he's just told her everything she always wanted a parent to tell her.

 

Emma lets out a shaky laugh around a watery smile as she swipes at her eyes again. "Mom will kill me if she sees my makeup ruined."

 

David lets out a deep laugh beside her and it warms her in all the ways she always wanted her father's laugh to do so. "I think she'll let it slide tonight. Come on," he turns his back on the water, holding his arm out for her and she slips hers through. "She'll be thrilled I caught you before you caught a cold."

 

Emma sighs a sigh that holds no real annoyance, definitely fondness. "And when I tell her I'd very much like to date her former arch enemy?" It's cautious, like she's balancing on the edge of this new found acceptance and understanding of herself and the understanding offered to her.

 

David turns to look at her, one brow arched and smirking. "Oh, I'm counting on her makeup being the real mess tonight. For good reasons, of course."

 

And Emma laughs, laughs so very big and let's the fact that she found and has everything she sought and dreamt about. Her parents, and they love her, and they accept her. She laughs and feels everything she can as relief sinks in, basks in it for a young Emma Swan who never got the chance. Takes it all in and holds on tight for an Emma Swan now that can just _be_.

 

**✧**

 

After a little more of a boost from David, an assurance that Hook is long gone and a kiss to her forehead, Emma wanders back into the banquet hall with only a few eyes on her here and there. Her parents are huddled in a group off to the side, laughing at something Granny says and maybe her mom laughs a little louder than usual and maybe she's kinda sorta tipsy and Emma finds that absolutely hilarious. She spots an empty table off in the opposite corner, sees no sign of the kid and his brunette mother and makes a beeline for one of the unoccupied chairs. She finds herself staring off, mostly, at various faces and nothing at all for an unknown amount of time when a soft nudge of an elbow against her shoulder pulls her from her daydreaming.

 

"Hey, Ma," Henry says softly, taking the seat next to her in a huff of exhaustion. His suit jacket has been ditched, top two buttons undone and bowtie hanging around his neck. He looks all kinds of grownup right now and Emma just wants to, I don't know, put a brick on his head and make it _stop_. She gives him a soft smile.

 

"Did you ditch your mom? You're a terrible date," she teases.

 

The unamused, deadpan look she gets in return is just _Regina, Regina, Regina_. "I'm an excellent date, thank you very much," he shifts in his seat a bit, hand coming up and rubbing the back of his neck before letting out a small laugh, "and I'm actually here for Mom."

 

She cocks a brow, "Oh?"

 

Henry shrugs, shuffling his feet back and forth against the hardwood floor. "She was worried about you, after you, uh, ran off before."

 

"Oh," and it's more of a croak this time. She drops her gaze to her hands resting in her lap. Henry shifts again beside her.

 

"She sent Gramps after you, wasn't sure she's who you would've wanted."

 

And Emma just stares, stares, stares and counts each of her fingers, once, twice, because Jesus kid, if you only knew. She swallows, throat feeling rough and raw and she wonders, wonders what would've happened if it had been Regina who went after her. A strong, but gentle hand rests itself over hers and she startles slightly before relaxing immediately, lifting her eyes to find her son looking at her in that thoughtful way he does, chin tilted and brows knitted together just slightly.

 

"Whatever's going on with you, Ma, it'll be okay," he smiles at her and it's so open and almost whimsical, "things have a funny way of coming out, and then working out."

 

She almost snorts at his word usage, and he looks like he has a fair amount of questions but his eyes shine like maybe he's already figured them out for himself and Emma finds herself captivated for a moment because, of course he would know. He's the smartest one in the room, all the time. Other than Regina, but he _is_ her kid, so. Truthfully, she's been getting that look quite a lot, most of her life really, and maybe she's more obvious than she had thought and she thought she had herself figured out and convinced enough to ignore it. Whatever. He gives her hand a squeeze and all she can manage is a tight lipped smile and nod because she's certain if she opens her mouth she'll end up definitely ruining her makeup beyond presentability. Henry's eyes flick up and across the room, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly when he smiles, Emma follows his gaze, finding Regina who's just joined the huddled group, watching them over Snow's shoulder, hands fidgeting slightly before folding over each other against her stomach.

 

"Mom's been dying to dance with you all night," Henry says suddenly in a bemused laugh, coated in adoration for his other mother. Emma turns her head sharply to look at him, eyes wide and he meets her gaze just as strongly, his lips curved upwards and he raises his shoulders like that'll be answer enough for her. "I figured I'd play wingman."

 

Her eyes dart from Henry, across the room to Regina and back to him, chewing on her bottom lip. "Henry, I..."

 

"It's okay, Ma, I swear." It sounds like more than just a go ahead to dance with his mother, she's certain she isn't imaging that. He stands then, tugging on her hand and she rises with him. He isn't taller than her yet, but she thinks he could be before she knows it and her heart clenches in that way it does when she thinks about him, looks at him. He leans forward, tilts his head and kisses her cheek, speaking softly. "Go dance with Mom."

 

She drops their joined hands, disentangling their fingers and pulling him close to her chest in an abrupt hug, buries her nose in his hair and just breathes. "I love you so much, kid."

 

He pulls back with a lopsided grin, his big brown eyes twinkling. "I love you back. Now go, before I call you both out for being chickens." He places his hands on her shoulders and turns her, shoves a bit and okay, they were having a moment don't be a twit.

 

She casts a bewildering look over her shoulder even as her feet actually do move her forward, much to her hammering hearts surprise. "I'm telling everyone you know Jar Jar Binks is your favorite Star Wars character."

 

He rolls his eyes, waves his hand in a shooing gesture. "I have far too refined taste when it comes to Star Wars for that to be remotely true, no one would buy it."

 

She immediately cracks a grin at the refined part, shaking her head. "God, you are just a Mini Regina." He smiles brightly at that, sheepish shrug of his shoulders.

 

"Mini Mills, that's me."

 

Emma's heart just feels so good, so full and she loves bantering with him, loves how almost every physical tick is his other mother and like with her, she can't help but send a smirk his way and a waggle of her brows. "I'll tell everyone you still sleep in R2D2 pajamas." And the way his face falls, mouth hanging open and his eyes shining like he's some wounded puppy, that's all her.

 

She laughs, turning away from him now and with a smile on her face as she takes quick, far more confident steps she never anticipated having. She stops at her mother's side, tapping her on the shoulder.

 

"Sorry to interrupt, but, um, can I borrow Regina for a moment?" She can feel piercing brown eyes practically boring a hole into the side of her head. And maybe Regina's feeling as anxious, as nervous as she is and somehow, that makes it a little easier. The prospect of taking chances, learning and then taking leaps with Regina is all kinds of terrifying because she's never just, let herself reach and take hold. But she could end up getting everything she ever wanted, had denied herself for so long. No more hiding, no more denying herself anything.

 

Snow turns to her with a kind smile, nodding her head. "Of course, sweetheart."

 

She places a hand at Emma's elbow, stepping a few steps away and Emma furrows her brows slightly in question before Snow speaks quietly between them. "I'm only saying this because I've had just enough to drink, but, it's about damn time this happened."

 

And Emma can't stop the absolutely undignified snort of laughter that escapes her because Snow's face is twisted up in a way that screams she'll have a pretty big headache tomorrow and absolute excitement and love she may actually burst with it all. She catches Regina's eyes narrowing from her peripheral, and shuffles from foot to foot, snapping her mouth shut as she fights back a ridiculous smile. "I'm gonna tell David to cut you off now."

 

Snow waves her hand dismissively, before kissing Emma's cheek where Henry had and turning her attention now to Regina. "Enjoy yourselves."

 

Regina's mouth opens, looks like she wants to say something sarcastic and biting but thinks better of it, mouth closing and lips turning up in a soft smile accompanied with a nod of her head. Snow turns back to Emma then, gives her a smile that seems significant in that motherly way that screams she knows all her secrets. And if that were true, why couldn't she have just spilled _this one._ Snow gives her elbow a gentle squeeze before she's grabbing David by the arm, saying something about more cake as she drags him off.

 

Emma heaves out a sigh, shaking her head and turning to face Regina fully.

 

"Hi," she says softly.

 

"Hi," is uttered back to her, breathy and small, shy.

 

Emma takes a few steps closer, closing the space between them and offers up her hand. "A very pushy young man insisted I come ask you to dance."

 

Despite the way Regina seems to almost vibrate with nerves, she takes Emma's hand easily and sighs, feigning being put out by their sons meddling, like she didn't already know what he had gone over to Emma for. Emma thinks it's cute. "You would think he'd have outgrown the scheming and operations by now."

 

Emma gives her a pointed look, "Like that's ever going to happen." And Regina's face scrunches up slightly as she chuckles lowly and no, _that_ is very cute. Emma threads her fingers through smaller ones, eyes trained on tangled fingers and clasped palms for a moment as she guides them both out onto the floor. She looks up when Regina takes an audible breath in, gizes Emma's hand a squeeze before untangling their hold on each other, guiding Emma's hand to a hip, her arms coming to wind around Emma's neck. Emma closes her eyes when Regina steps forward and leans her head against the side of Emma's. She manages to find purchase on Regina's other hip with her free hand before slipping around her waist, hands pressing into the small of her back, fingertips ghosting over exposed skin. They start an easy sway, and this feels good, this feels right. This feels like how a moment such as this should feel.

 

"I broke up with Hook," she finds herself muttering into Regina's hair when she turns her head slightly, breathing in. Women smell good. Women are nice to hold. Regina smells more than good, Regina's more than nice to hold.

 

"Are you okay?" the question falls against her shoulder, the soft caress of a breath creeping down her spine and causing small goosebumps to dust her skin. She nods.

 

"I couldn't keep pretending like that's what I wanted." She feels Regina hum next to ear, is silent for a moment, before replying quietly, voice so very soft.

 

"You don't ever have to pretend like you don't deserve anything less than absolute comfort and safety, Emma," a breath in, Emma's heart clenching, an exhale, "You deserve to be cherished, just how you are."

 

Emma swallows, throat bobbing slightly as she fights down the lump in her throat, wills herself not to cry, but the watery puff of air that escapes her in a small laugh is out before she can help it. "It took me far too long to realize that."

 

One of Regina's hands is smoothing up the back of her neck, fingers playing the baby hairs there briefly before tangling in her hair, cupping the back of her head and holding her like Regina cherishes her and she feels safe, safe, safe. "I know, darling, but it's okay," is whispered against her cheek and fuck all, she's definitely crying.

 

"It's okay," Regina whispers again, head turning and she feels soft lips press against her cheek before their gone, Emma's eyes finding Regina's as she leans back slightly, her other hand coming to settle against her cheekbone and brushing away rolling tears, a watery smile gracing her features.

 

"I'd really like to take you out. On a date." Emma blurts out, fumbles around her tongue and words and sniffles slightly, sighing heavily.

 

Regina sighs out a breathy chuckle, tilting her head and giving her a look that could only be described as her massively adoring, heart so full with love expression, one that's usually reserved just for Henry, but there's a twinkle and shine in her eyes that makes it just Emma's.

 

"I hope you aren't teaching our son to be as smooth as you," she teases, arching a brow and Emma would be offended, but.

 

Regina's smiling so very bright with that look that is definitely her I Adore You So Much, Emma Swan look. And maybe her life is some stupid romcom, because how could everything snap into place so easily, all at once. She finds she doesn't want to dwell too much on that, actually, instead she thinks about her parents who love her, a son who just knows and supports her, and she finds a flicker of hope along with chances and leaps ready to be taken reflected back in brown eyes.

 

"I would love to go out with you, Emma Swan," falls against the corner of her mouth, a gentle press of lips there. And yes.

 

She's safe, safe, safe. She can just be.

 

**Author's Note:**

> well... there you have it. this may not be what the requester had hoped for, but i hope it fulfills something. i know it did for me, having spent all my teen years pushing back every feeling that felt natural to me, only to hide and pretend i cared about my friends talking about boys, even though i had a crush on one girl for several years and just wanted to talk about her smile.
> 
> this is for a struggling past me, anyone else who's struggled as well or still is, and for emma swan who deserves to have this chance to just be.
> 
> anyway, thank you for reading this. i appreciate any feedback.  
> you can come find me on twitter: @lanasparrillla or leave something on curious cat as well: lesknope


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